Who's Protecting Who?
by moonpaints
Summary: Takashi has to make a choice he's made once before. What will he choose this time. And does Hani actually need to be protected?  Warning! NOT a love story  Rated T for blood/weapon mentions


Who's protecting who?

The letter was in his hand. He reread it again. The ink, the broken sentences it made, made of letters. Stiff, still, square letters. Like a default font, a machine written note, it looked like something from a computer. But it was handwriting. Handwriting that was stiff, still, and square. Handwriting that made letters. Letters that made broken sentences, that made directions.

Directions, like a treasure hunt. Treasure Hunt. The words brought back memories. And he was a young boy again. Nothing mattered.

No, there was cake, the biggest piece, that mattered.

Cake, it was a birthday party. Cake mattered. Cake and the treasure hunt, the treasure. A map, the map was in his hands. It led to treasure. He was close, he ran. So did a little blonde boy behind him. A thud and the other boy was down. Out for the count, with tears in his eyes. Mitskuni cried. Takashi looked at his map again. He was even closer. A choice. Go back and help the blonde, or go forward.

This was real, a memory, it had happened before, he could remember it. He went back, went back for Mitskuni. He waited for that part to happen, but the memory was frozen, it was frozen until he chose.

Deep breath, Takashi took a deep breath, and went forward. An adult. Male. Father. Mitskuni's father. His uncle, grabbed the blonde's hand.

_ Get up son, you're fine. _And he was fine. Hani was fine and walked back with his father.

This part wasn't real. This was no longer a memory. In the memory he went back for Hani. This was more of a dream. And in the dream Takashi ran to the treasure. He found it, but never opened it before the end.

Now he is back, in regular time, in Music Room three. The letter is in his hand. Still covered with directions. Directions that lead to something, or someone. It's like the treasure hunt. He doesn't know what's at the end.. A voice interrupts. It's Mitskuni, Mitskuni smiling up at him.

_ Takashi do you want to eat cake with me?_

A choice, he has to make a choice. Stay back with Hani, or go forward and find the treasure. But he doesn't get to think. His deep voice says _Sorry, I can't, I'm busy. _

His feet start to move, he tries to stop, they go faster. His hand clutches the directions tighter, tighter in his hand, he'll never lose them.

Step by step, foot by foot he moves through the halls. Left then right, left and right. Lost? It can't be. But it is. The final room is empty. Dark cold and empty. Nothingness. Was it a lie, a joke, all nothingness like the room.

But then she enters, head to toe draped in black, like a shadow. A shadow with a gleam of silver. A silver gleam in her hand. They've never met, or have they. Deep in his dreams he sees her. In the background of his dreams she's always there, she knows what scares him, what makes him happy. She knows everything about him. She has nothing to hold against him, and everything against him. She grows strong as others grow week, he is just another victim that played along.

She speaks, giving her words in a cold, icy, hiss. _I showed you the real memory, and the one I decided to create. And you choose this as your fate. You are his protector, supposed keep him safe , now it's to late. You should get ready, this will hurt just a bit , but you chose to come here so don't have a fit. There's no way out of this, get ready to die, there's no time for goodbye. You left him and if you hadn't you'd be fine. The fault is mostly mine. But it was your voice, you made the choice. You've always acted like he needed you, but you know it's not true. He could kill a thousand men, you'd be lucky to get ten. He was protecting you the whole time, and when your gone, he'll be mine. I'll torture him to death, you'll helplessly watch the end of his life. _The she drove the knife, into his back.

Voices and lights called to him. The room spun and blood, warm and enticing soaked him. She struck again, and again. A puddle wrapped around him, there was no physical pain. Only warmth and an aching in his heart that could be ignored. A pillow was under his head then. A soaked pillow, it oozed blood when he put his head on it. His hair was soaked. Every part of him was covered in red. Warm, red. And he fell asleep one last time in peace, so he'd be well rested. Well rested for the torture to come.

* * *

Well that was it. I know it was kind of weird, the inspration was a dream i had. Anyway, hope you liked it. Review if you do, flame it if you don't.

Kthnxbai

~Grace


End file.
